


Sky

by snarkasaurus



Series: Flash Fiction February 2020 [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22592494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkasaurus/pseuds/snarkasaurus
Summary: Hannah has the sky
Series: Flash Fiction February 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625575





	Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Day Four of [Flash Fiction February](https://www.scribemind.com/blog/flashficfeb)
> 
> A way to have a "literary sketchbook" for the month of February. I'm using it to shake some dust loose.

Azure. 

Cerulean. 

Sapphire. 

There were dozens of words for different shades of blue, and Hannah had seen them all. Not every sky glowed the same in the bright light of the sun. Sometimes it depended on the time of year, and sometimes it depended on the time of day. Morning, not long after dawn, was the time for the richer jewel tones. The brightest light of a summer noon brought with it the palest shades, the soft sky blues favored for baby bedrooms and old cadillacs. 

Hannah preferred the twilight blues, though. These were the ones twisted together with purples and golds and reds and sometimes wilder colors like greens and deep, bruised coloring that left her wondering if she should find shelter. Even then, though, she loved the depth that the sky took on as it melted into the black ink of night, the rays of the sun fading away in last gasps of glimmering gold that tried to hold on and only managed to bleed into the edges of the sky before vanishing in a blink. 

She didn’t like the night sky as much. Black was black, and it didn’t have the same kind of infinite variety that the day time sky did. Even when it was stormy or just cloudy, the daytime sky gave her shades of grey that she could wrap around herself like a blanket to protect her from the gloom everyone else around her seemed to radiate on sunless days. At night, the clouds just hovered, a quiet menacing promise that there was nothing else in the world but what she could see around her, and she’d never have the blue of her skies again. 

But day always came, and with it came her optimism. That sky was her home and that blue her cloak. As long as she had it, she would always be okay.


End file.
